A Small Navigational Error...Part 1
by hollywood7301
Summary: A Texas Pilot ends up crashing a plane on Naboo. Queasiness and Hilarity ensues.


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Why does shit like that always happen to me?

John sighed as he pulled his car into the small parking lot of the Aviation Company. Leave it to an ex-girlfriend to completely miss the point of a conversation and put him in a bad mood. He sat there, in the parking lot for a minute or two, trying to calm himself. Thinking about that bitch and flying were not the most productive of combinations. 

John looked up at the sky. Unusual for Dallas in the fall, the sky was crystal clear and had a beautiful azure hue to it. He grinned-this was going to be a great day to fly. He turned and walked into the building adjacent to the hanger to get his plane and weather reports. 

*****

"Piper four-two golf, cleared for takeoff on 17."

"Four-two golf's rolling, tower." John watched his airspeed come up, and rotated off the runway, the Piper's engine clawing for altitude. As the plane passed one thousand feet, John relaxed a little, and began his bank to turn back to the north before finally heading west.

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God, Class B airspace is such a pain in the ass. It would have been easier to just get clearance through it, John thought. _But with the luck you're having today, Johnnie-boy, you'd end up having a near miss with some hotshot 757 driver blasting out of D/FW._

He grinned-he really didn't mind the deviation around Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport-the extra detour gave him more time flying the plane, and that's what counted. And on a day like today-man oh man! Simply beautiful! Since getting his pilot's license six months prior, he was slowly but steadily working on accumulating his hours and ratings-eventually, he hoped, to end up as a first officer for one of the airlines. But flying, like any other addiction, was expensive-so when John's parents offered pay for John to fly out to Abilene and back twice in one weekend, he jumped at the chance. _Flying's_ _even better when it's paid for_, John thought with a grin. 

John's parents lived in Dallas, and his sister Elizabeth was in her freshman year of college out in West Texas. They had called him two days ago asking him if he wanted to fly out to Abilene to pick her up and bring her home for a weekend visit-they would pick up the cost of the plane and fuel. That meant picking her up on Friday, and then taking her back out on Sunday, which to John, translated into lots of flying time. The prospect of a free plane and fuel was an offer he couldn't refuse, so on this sunny Friday afternoon, John found himself heading west at an altitude of eighty-five hundred feet.

*****

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That's strange, John thought, watching his navigation needles slowly turn in seemingly random patterns. _Hmm. I guess I'm still too far away to pick up the VOR signal…_

The fact that his instruments were not quite homing in on the navigational beacon at the regional airport in Abilene was not a cause of concern to John-the skies were clear, there was plenty of daylight left, and he was using his instruments as a backup to his visual navigation. 

__

Besides, there's always the interstate…John thought wryly, looking down at I-20 eight thousand feet below him. He looked back at his instrument panel. His ADI showed his wings were level, airspeed was just under 120 knots, indicated. John let his eyes drift over to his navigation instruments.

__

What the hell?

Every single navigation instrument he had was spinning rapidly, as if the needles had ambitions to mate with ceiling fans. As he watched the needles spin crazily in their housings, John noticed that he was no longer hearing the random radio callouts and bursts of static in his headset. As he looked over at his radio panel, John felt a small ball of ice form in the pit of his stomach. The frequency displays were generating random numbers and characters, and no amount of button-pushing and switch-flipping was going to get them working again. 

John suddenly felt very lonely-and a little scared. 

Taking a deep breath, he checked his ammeter and noticed that it was bouncing back and forth like a pendulum gone insane. _Well, isn't this just fucking marvelous…_ Pulling out the checklist card from the kneeboard strapped to his leg, John started looking for the proper checklist for electrical failure. 

The engine, which had previously been running smoothly, began to vibrate and cough. John immediately pulled the carburetor heat on, thinking that some ice had started to accumulate in the carburetor. 

__

Man, please don't let me lose the engine, not now…

John started to look outside for a place to put down. _At least I have some altitude to work with_, John thought. 

A purplish glimmer directly in front of the plane caught his eye. A small light at first, it quickly grew into a swirling mass of pearlescent fire that was large enough to engulf the single engine plane. Before he could react, in a heartbeat, the mass and the plane were one.

BOOM!

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What the hell…

John snapped his eyes back open, and breathing heavily, quickly scanned his instruments. ADI, altitude, airspeed…all normal. He looked at the RPM indicator for his engine-it showed 2300 revolutions per minute, but was slowly starting to buck and jump as John heard the engine dying. John looked at the radios and saw that they were completely dead. _No, not dead-inoperative…_John toggled his radio switch, hoping that somehow the radio would transmit.

"Mayday, mayday, Piper two-four golf, declaring an emergency, have lost electrical and engine power at…" John checked his altimeter-which was rapidly…climbing? _Oh, man…what now?_

John looked outside. Below him, gently rolling plains of green grass stretched out to the horizon, and the sky was a deeper blue than it had been a moment ago. But where did those plains come from? It looked more like Montana than West Texas…then John noticed something that planted the first big shred of doubt as to where he really was.

Clouds. Big, beautiful, gently rolling cumulonimbus clouds. Clouds that were nowhere to be seen only a minute ago. The icy ball in John's stomach that was starting to go away suddenly reasserted itself with a vengeance. 

__

Well, fuck me sideways. No roads, no nothing. Hey, God…can anything else go wrong on this flying turd? 

As if in answer to his silent question, the engine coughed hard twice, then quit completely.

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I was only kidding…

John started to pitch the plane up, trading airspeed for altitude. He looked off to his left, and noticed a forest that ended abruptly in an even line running parallel to John's current course. Near the edge of the treeline, John noticed what looked like a set of boulders and next to that…

John caught it again, the distinctive glint of sunlight off of metal. Figuring that it would be better to crash near help as opposed to making the potential help travel a ways to help him, John put the plane into a descent and started a left turn to bring the Piper back around to where he saw, he hoped, a sign of civilization. 

*****

Anakin noticed the purplish flash in the sky first; the Gungan sentry sitting at the top of the half-buried stone head was looking the wrong way.

"Hey! What was that? Did you see that?" He asked the Gungan.

"Did meesa see whatsa?" The Gungan asked, confused, thinking that he had missed seeing Panaka coming back with the reinforcements the Queen sent him to look for. "Issa dey comin back alreddy?"

"No," Anakin said, pointing to the sky. "Up there-it looked like a flash…"

The boy looked up again to the spot in the sky where he saw the strange flash of light. "What's that?" he asked. There was a small white object up there, moving away from where the flash had been. Anakin wondered what the object was-it was moving too slow to be a proper airspeeder, and looked to be too small to be a real transport. Anakin turned and ran back towards the treeline, yelling for Qui-gon as he ran.

*****

"Qui-gon! Come look, sir! You gotta…" Anakin was breathless from running as he came up to Qui-gon and Obi-Wan. 

"What is it, Ani? Is Panaka back?" Qui-gon asked. He looked closer at the boy. No, he decided, Captain Panaka wasn't back yet. Something else had the boy excited.

"Qui-gon, sir…I saw a flash, and there's a pod of some kind that came out of it. It looks like it's coming toward us," the excited boy replied, tugging at the Jedi Master's sleeve. "Come look!"

"Obi-wan." The elder Jedi motioned for his padawan to follow him and Anakin back to where the Gungan sentry was positioned.

By the time they reached the sentry's position, they could clearly spot the plane downwind of them, gliding roughly parallel to the line of trees they had come out of.

*****

John kept the plane on a gradual descent. He felt a wave of relief as he realized that he had the plane stabilized and had found a long and relatively flat, even patch of earth to land the Piper. After his turn, the trees were now well off to his right, and he could pick out movement coming out of the treeline…

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Okay, Johnnie-boy. They know you're coming in-just land the plane…

As the Piper flared settled onto the short grass of the plain, John wondered if he should try to brake or let the plane roll to a stop.

*****

"Master, what kind of speeder is that? I don't think I've ever seen one of that type before," Obi-wan said, looking at the strange speeder settle onto the ground and roll. 

"I'm not sure, Obi-Wan…" Qui-gon's voice trailed off as he continued to reach out with the force, trying to determine who was piloting such an alien craft. As they had watched the craft come out of its turn, Qui-gon felt a very strong pressure being released in the force, as if a great stress had suddenly been lifted. Now he could feel the pilot's presence clearly. Aside from the high level of stress and fear he had felt earlier, there was an underlying current of confusion and apprehension coming from, as far as his highly-trained force senses could tell, the lone occupant of the craft. 

*****

John decided that the plane was slowed enough that he could go ahead and start braking. As he depressed his rudder pedals, the nosewheel of the Piper caught a shallow depression, the kind that exist as potholes on old city streets. At a slower speed, the hole would have stopped the Piper right there. However, the Piper was still rolling at 25 knots. When the wheel caught the hole, the momentum of the rest of the plane effectively and efficiently separated the nosegear as a whole from the fuselage. 

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Aw, shit! 

John felt the sharp dip-too sharp for the nosegear to bounce out of-and heard the crack and thud as the gear extricated itself from the rest of the plane. The nose of the plane hit the ground and started to plow a fifty-foot long furrow in the short grass of the field, causing John to bang his head soundly against the side windscreen pillar. 

*****

Qui-gon, Obi-wan and Anakin watched as the strange craft started to slow. It appeared to be going pretty slow-but then the forward part of the craft dipped and the sound of crunching metal was heard. The nose of the craft was now touching the ground. 

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Well, whatever it is, it's damaged, thought Qui-gon.

"Come, Obi-wan, let's see what it is." Qui-gon looked at the boy. "Ani, stay here until I call for you."

"Yes, sir," the boy answered, looking past them at the craft. He pointed. "Do you think we're in danger, Qui-gon, sir?"

"No, Ani. But stay there just to be safe," Qui-gon called back over his shoulder.

*****

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Dammit! I should've braked earlier…Dammit, dammit, dammit!

John popped off his shoulder harness and seat belt and started to unlatch the door.

*****

"Master…" Obi-wan froze. He felt a huge wave of anger come from the plane.

"Yes, padawan. I sense it, too. But…it feels more inward focused. Almost as if…"

*****

John climbed out onto the wing of the Piper and hopped down off the damaged plane. As he looked around, he mentally cursed himself for not braking earlier and tearing up the plane. The realization that he was alive and safe wouldn't hit him for some time. 

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Oh, thank God…

John saw two men in what looked like Duster Coats walking toward him. He waved at them, and started walking toward them, hoping that these two cowboys whose farm he had evidently crashed landed on wouldn't kick his ass for scaring their cows.

As he drew closer to the two cowboys, he noticed that they weren't wearing Duster Coats at all, but robes. Their clothes strongly resembled the uniforms he had worn when he had taken Tae Kwon-Do as an elementary school boy.

What is this? John wondered._ Did I land on some kind of whacked-ass Branch Davidian cult compound?_

*****

Qui-gon saw the man get out of the craft and look around. He could feel that this pilot, or whoever he was, was chastising himself for damaging his craft. The man spotted them, waved, and started walking towards them. As they drew closer, Qui-gon wondered where this human was from. His hair was short and brushed up, similar to his padawan's. He was dressed in a simple green tunic with blue pants and what looked like brown boots. This was no citizen of Naboo. He could sense when the man's relief at seeing them changed to confusion as they drew closer to each other.

*****

John stopped as the three men met. _Who are these guys?_

"Uh…Hello. I'm awfully sorry about landing…" at this, John turned and gestured back at the Piper behind him. "…on your property-I went through some kind of electrical disturbance, and my engine just up and quit on me…" John let out a little laugh, trying not to let his knees tremble. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his system was starting to wear off.

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Property? Does he think we own the land around here? Qui-gon wondered.

"No, it's quite alright. Are you injured? You look to have a cut on your forehead," replied Qui-gon.

John felt his forehead and looked at his fingertips. They were covered in crimson. His head hurt, but he felt pretty well, considering.

"No, I'm…uh…okay. I'm sorry, I just had a bit of a scare, that's all." John looked back at the plane and let out a sigh of relief. The adrenaline was really wearing off now, and his legs felt quite rubbery.

Both Qui-gon and Obi-wan sensed that the man had suffered a major malfunction with his craft, and felt lucky to get it down in one piece.

"Can I get you something to drink? Please…why don't you come back with us," Qui-gon offered. The Jedi Master reached out and put a hand on the man's shoulder, motioning him to walk back into the treeline with them.

"Sure. May I borrow your phone? I need to make a couple of phone calls…" John said, taking a few tentative steps, finding he could walk just fine. _You're okay, Johnnie-boy-you got it down…_ "I…uh…was on my way to Abilene from Dallas. Where exactly am I, by the way?"

Dallas? Abilene? Obi-wan thought. As far as he knew, Naboo had no settlements with names such as those. "Actually, we're a little over two hundred hectmeres from the city of Theed."

"Theed? Is that near Stephenville?" _Where the hell am I?_ John had grown up in Texas his entire life and had never heard of a town called Theed. _…And what the hell is a hectmere?_ "Hey, guys…I may be a little shaken up, so humor me: Am I even in Texas? Or did I end up in Oklahoma?"

Qui-gon realized that this pilot, whoever he was, was _really _lost. "I'm afraid I've never heard of…this…Tex-as…you speak of. But let's get you sitting down, and rested. You've had a exciting day, I think," Obi-wan shot Qui-gon a wry grin as Qui-gon spoke. "We'll worry about your craft later. Let's get you rested first."

"I appreciate your hospitality, I really do. Do y'all have a house near here?" John looked over as a boy came running up to them.

"Qui-gon, who's this?" Anakin inquired. "Are you okay, mister?"

John let out a chuckle, hoping it didn't sound as shaky as he felt. "I'm fine…my name's John. What's your name?"

"I'm Anakin," the boy replied. He looked John up and down. "Where are you from?"

"Dallas," John replied. "I'm sorry, guys, I didn't even catch y'all's names." John stuck his hand out towards the larger, long-haired man who had done most of the talking. Qui-gon took John's hand and shook it. "My name is Qui-gon Jinn, and this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, my padawan."

John stopped. _Qui-gone? Obiee-waan? Pada-waan? What in the FUCK is going on around here? Just where in the hell did I land? I'm still in Texas, these guys are just messing with me, they're just having a little fun, they're getting me back for scaring the shit outta their cattle._

As they reached the treeline, John started noticing more people around, mostly gathered around what looked like old cars-big flat sedans from the sixties. This did nothing but add to his bewilderment.

*****

Jar-Jar Binks looked over to see the two Jedi and Anakin walking back with a person he had never seen before. This new human was looking around and appeared to be bleeding slightly from his head. Jar-Jar loped over to see who this new arrival was and see if he could help. He figured the smaller of the two Jedi would dismiss his offer to help, but he'd ask anyway.

*****

Anakin ran over to a speeder and got a canteen of water out of it. As he was walking back over to where the Jedi and John were standing, he heard John asking them about their robes. _He doesn't know that Jedi dress like that?_ Strange indeed.

"Hey, thanks, Anakin." John took the offered canteen and took a couple of healthy swallows. "So, your robes are a traditional form of dress? …Are you members of a religious…" John chose his words carefully. "…uh, movement?" _Gotta be careful with these cult people…_

"Well, actually…" Qui-gon was cut off by Jar-Jar as he walked up. "Heysa dere, meester Jedde, yousa needa help?" The gungan turned to John, whose eyes grew very wide upon seeing him. _…This can't be happening-this isn't happening! This is a fucking dream and I'm gonna wake up. …No…_

John looked at the Gungan, and his first impression was that he was seeing something that Jim Henson created after ingesting copious amounts of mushrooms. But…there was no way…_no fucking way!_…that it was human! And yet…

The creature spoke.

"Whosa are yousa?" Jar-Jar asked.

John's only reply was for his legs to finally give out and he fell flat on his ass.

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To Be Continued…


End file.
